Harnessing Humanity in Her
by Purely Peppermint
Summary: -Based around RE5- A fall from Spencer Castle would have never killed such a terrifying creature as Albert Wesker, a living, breathing incarnation of humanity's apocalypse. But who would have guessed that such a plunge wouldn't be enough to destroy the bond that Jill Valentine held to her precious existence? And how vital it would become to the man rising to the ranks of "God"?
1. The Fall of Albert Wesker

Author's Notes:

Thank you for stopping by and for taking a look into my RE5 fanfiction spinoff of Jill and Wesker's story after the Spencer Castle incident!

I know there are many fanfictions already out that have investigated this part of the almost untold plot and I recognize that this beginning may not be very original because of that, but I enjoyed writing it and hope some of you will enjoy reading it.

A quick note: I have not played the games themselves because...frankly... I'm too chicken to do so! But I have done a little research, have watched many cutscenes and hope that I have best portrayed each character as they should be.

See you all at the bottom!

Enjoy!

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I do not own and am not affiliated with the Resident Evil games or the characters within. This fanfiction is purely for my own enjoyment and for the enjoyment of those who decide to read it.

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Adrenaline pumped through her veins.

Fear coiled in her stomach.

And she raced forward and embraced her oldest enemy.

Her arms wrapped around him.

And her feet left the ground.

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She could hear the shattering glass.

Her own voice crying out with his.

And the sudden rush of wind around them.

Then.

Nothing.

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The chill...

It surrounded his body and encased him in its bitter embrace.

The rain pelted against his leather suit and the rare appearance of pale skin. It spilled over and into the blood that had trickled out of his wounds, mixing together and flowing over his sides. His fingers clenched, boot twitched and his one good eye blinked open and into the darkness that was this cold and foreboding place.

Pain had not yet set in. Instead, a tingling numbness had raced over his body. Clever as it was how the body worked, it was also preventing him from raising himself and so he remained quite still, looking up at the window he could barely make out. Rather, it was the light pouring from the shattered remains that had caught his attention. In the drizzle it almost seemed a beacon of some sort, providing a point of interest for his weary self to look upon.

It was also a rather grim reminder of where he'd just fallen.

Albert Wesker's remains lay torn and twisted on the cliff side just outside Spencer Castle. The storm's merciless onslaught had reached its peak, drenching him in rain and howling into his eardrums. Waves threatened him with every break they made against jutting stone, spewing forth froths of saltwater and foam. It was low tide as fortune would have it. Or would it have proved far more fruitful had he been tossed into the icy clutches of the ocean herself?

Wesker wasted little time on the thought and refocused inwardly. His body was crippled. Broken and splayed out before the roaring heavens. The BSAA would only be so lucky to find him at the given moment. And the brooding man was ever so keen to avoid that particular fate... At nearly any cost.

Teeth gritted, he clenched each fist and pumped them over and again. His ability to regenerate had never been so dear to him as it was now. Joints popped, fingers cracked and the three broken bones in his left hand hardened and folded into place. Wesker lifted his arms and growled as torn ligaments and muscle tendons rerouted and transfixed into their original positions.

The many bruises covering his scalp and the deep laceration on the back of his skull faded quickly, leaving little indication that harm had ever come to his cranium. It was his neck that took time. It must have snapped on impact; even now he could not bring himself to turn his head or lift himself up off the ground. Thus, Wesker remained unmoving as blurred vision returned to his dead eye.

The storm would slow them down... Chris and his men. They would have to traverse the entire cliff side before making it to Wesker. And the broken man relished this fact. It meant more time for his own departure and more work for his nemesis. And, through his predicament, Wesker managed a smirk as the rotary cup in his right shoulder popped back into place. Even now he could envision his best and brightest S.T.A.R.S. Agent bickering with a radio. Attempting to get backup while maintaining a signal in this God forsaken weather.

God.

Wesker.

A deeply rooted resentment pushed forth from the depths of his belly and the indignity of his situation rushed across the blond's normally placid features. His brow furrowed and his lip curled. He let loose a low growl and slammed his recuperating hand into the hard stone beneath him. How could he have allowed those he'd once commanded get the better of him?! He dared to turn his head to the left and spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth.

No one was above him.

Wesker was to be a God to these insipid little fools.

He would slaughter the weak and watch over those truly worthy to be in his new world.

A renewed sense of calm and certainty fell upon him and Wesker relaxed. He could barely hear it over the fury of mother nature's wrath, but the once mighty predator could certainly feel the bones in his legs snapping to attention. The tissue in his heels began to reform and the droplets of ruby liquid dribbling from his boots paused indefinitely. It was curious, then, as to why it was taking his chest so long to heal. Minutes ticked by and still Wesker could not take in a decent breath of air without the pain in his ribcage stopping him halfway. If the numbness in his body was already lifting it meant he was healing at a rate he'd gladly anticipated.

And yet, as patient as the man was, he recognized time was not in his favor even with the storm overhead. His hands rose up from his sides and he gripped his throat. Sore, but not nearly as mangled as it had been ten minutes ago. His collar bone was whole and the swelling in his left shoulder was nearly gone. He trailed down his chest and found his splintered ribcage mending back together.

It was then that he found the cause to his healing delay.

A small, broken form was sprawled across Wesker's torso. Soggy strands of brunette hair had been ripped free from the confines of a ponytail and had pressed across bruised and paling cheeks. It was no longer Wesker's blood alone that stained his clothes. Fresh droplets of crimson trickled from a wound just above the elbow that lay unmoving against the man's chest.

This was how Albert Wesker found the cold, dead remains of Jill Valentine.

The monster of a man sat up carefully, allowing her to roll down from his stomach and onto his thighs. His body cracked and ached with each movement, but his eager mind was far to enthralled with the prize that had been lain into his lap to care. He burrowed his right arm underneath her neck and drew her near. Sharp ruby eyes poured over her features.

Her left arm was a mess of broken bones and bloodied skin. It had fallen onto the stone at impact and Jill was left with a shattered wrist and mangled fingers. He toyed with her joint and found it was loose. Weaving his hands down her sculpted frame he could feel the many breaks and lacerations across her sides and torso. Her kneecaps were ruptured and her right foot was twisted to an absurd degree.

Wesker raised his eyes toward the shattered window once more. It brought him back now... That moment not long ago when he felt her arms around him, pressing herself into him as if they'd been old lovers. And then that fateful crack of stained glass and their descent. She'd never let go, not even in death. Such was the power and determination of Jill Valentine.

The blond's brow softened. He looked back down on her and frowned. Bringing his fingers up, he let them push away the lingering strands of brunette hair on her cold, wet face.

It was just as easily that his frown turned into a sneer and he raised himself from the ground. Arranging his free arm under her legs, he scooped Jill into his care and approached the water's edge. The evening had stolen all light that would provide even him the slightest glimpse into the murky depths. Wesker's cat-like orbs scanned the horizon as a brilliant flash of lightning cracked against the heavens and found choppy waters and hazardous waves.

Perfect.

If the BSAA came looking for a corpse they'd find one as a buoy, dashed along the cliff side.

Wesker closed in on the very brink and held his arms out. The gusts of wind rippled his pant legs and jostled against his cargo. Sea foam spilled over his shoes. He gave one final smirk at the window high above, peered down on his soon to be dropped cargo...

And found two piercing blue eyes blinking up at him from under a weather-worn baseball cap.

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Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading the first chapter of my RE5 based fanfic! I hope it left you anticipating more..! Or, at the very least, mildly entertained.

I realize this game _has_ been out for a bit, but when I recently came across a clip of Albert Wesker I just **_had_ **to write something about this dapper and yet so vile villain! But here I am rambling~

Anyways! There is more to come if people are pleased with how this story started and my writing style! Again, I recognize that there are probably quite a few plots about Jill's untold tale in Wesker's clutches, but I promise to try and make it a little more unique from here on out.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

If criticism, which is almost always necessary, please make sure it's constructive!


	2. Decisions Decisions

Author's Notes:

Hello everyone! And welcome to chapter two of "HHiH"! Because typing it out takes too long!

I'd like to take a moment and thank everyone for the awesome reviews they've taken the time to submit and for those that have "followed" or "favorited" me. I truly appreciate the feedback! It helps me get in the writing groove when all I feel like doing is being lazy.

On another note, I'd like to point out that I have created spacing for the paragraphs so that they are easier to read via "."

If this doesn't appeal to you and actually hinders your enjoyment let me know so I can remove them for others. I don't really care for walls of texts and just thought this might prove a bit helpful (and I don't know if there is an option to apply extra spaces directly within Fanfiction. Everything I've tried doesn't seem to work.)

That's it for now folks, see you at the bottom!~

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That piercing blue.

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Icy and relentless.

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It poured over him, prying into the very depths of his soul. And still he could not bring himself to believe what he was witnessing. No, not completely. As the sky shattered above them once more and bright, blinding light enveloped their bodies Albert Wesker stared down and into the azure irises of Jill Valentine.

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The woman had survived.

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The two remained on the edge of Mother Nature's fury. The tide continued to threaten them, pressing further and further into the rocky masses Wesker stood upon. And yet they continued to gaze at one another. The great entity born from Umbrella and the woman who had brought the corporation to its knees. It was only when Valentine's hardened features flexed and her eyes closed that the man cradling her battered frame reacted.

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Instinctively he drew her close, holding the fragile life against his chest and away from the hazards of the open water below. Each careful step backwards took Jill further from the frigid grave Wesker had committed her to and he stopped only after he'd put a few yards between themselves and the incoming ocean waves. And then he turned his attention back down to her.

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Wesker had to admit... There was a large part of him that wanted to finish what the fall had not. An unyielding desire to watch the light forever fade from those ever reproachful eyes. And yet something else had won against Wesker's need for bloodshed. With a cruel smile he could only assume it wasn't some last desperate trace of morality.

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The blond turned his attention to his surroundings and for the first time since the plunge truly acknowledged them for what they were. The sheer cliff side stood at their back, leading high up to Spencer Castle. Mighty boulders towered over their left while the ocean tide continued to rise. The only option seemed to be the narrow strip of rock to their right that led off and around a bend. Tilting his head, Wesker considered this and ran his boot along the ground. It felt slick, covered in residue from the ocean.

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Putting his speed to good use here would prove absurd. As much as he longed to be free of the ever present threat that was the BSAA he was certain the terrain would only cripple him if he applied himself too much. To prove his own point he shifted himself and his cargo by five feet in the blink of an eye toward the route he planned to take. The scummy surface of the ground removed all traction from his boots and they slid a good twenty feet more before stopping.

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Wesker let out a brief sigh and looked down on Jill's tattered remains. As another flash of light struck across the skyline he soaked in her visage and began his slow and cumbersome walk. Now that he had another to fend for the weather suddenly seemed annoying and at best, tedious.

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The trek was sluggish, but steady as Wesker pressed uphill against the constant barrage of rain and wind. It tormented his grip on the slippery mud and rocks beneath his feet and chilled the cargo he had tucked into the depths of his coat. Every so often he paused to regain his sense of direction, using the castle off in the distance and the ocean itself as marking points. The forest ahead was growing more and more expansive. No doubt they would be enveloped by its harsh, overgrown branches in a matter of minutes.

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But this news did nothing for him. His brow creased and he searched the treeline for what lay waiting. Wesker was no fool. He could already feel the tension heavy in the air, hear the gnashing of warped gums embedded with overgrown teeth. And yet there was no way for him to continue, but onward to what kept hidden within.

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Stepping beyond the first downed tree and into the forest, Wesker kept himself steady as the rocky terrain was replaced with rotting foliage. The heady crunch of twigs and branches were muffled by the storm overhead laying siege to the canopy high above. But it provided little protection from the hail that was now falling from the heavens. Wesker let his ruby orbs adjust to the low light and listened as a low cry hailed from the path ahead.

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Movement.

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Amidst the flicker of lightning he spotted the beast as it darted from behind one tree and to the next. Small, sleek and agile. A renegade experiment from the castle, perhaps? For the moment Wesker decided to continue forward, his boots squishing through the hearty muck beneath them. Pausing where he'd spotted the creature, nothing was left, but the marred indents of footprints riddled with water. And then there came a low gurgle behind him.

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Speed became the defining factor as the blond shot himself off to the right. And where he'd been standing before now sat a small, malnourished man. In the light provided by the storm Wesker made out the humanoid. Its eyes were burrowed back deep into its skull and its mouth had grown. Sharp, broken teeth protruded from the very front of its jawline and lead the way back to the man's temple. A rich, yellow mucus dribbled from what looked like stitches roving up his arms. They stopped at its shoulder lines, but the skin between each closure seemed to flex with every twitch the monstrosity made.

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Which was plenty now that it had its sights on Wesker. It leaned in close to the ground and let out that low, garble of a noise. Then reared back and lunged. Its body sailed through the air and dropped right before the blond's boot. He scoffed. And use that very same heel to punt the creature into a nearby tree. The beastly humanoid hit with a force that sent the old, half rotted oak to the ground. And with the resounding thud Wesker smirked and turned.

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And found himself facing three more of its kind assaulting the skyline above. Immediately Wesker twisted his back on them and nestled Jill close, using his speed to send them shifting right. This saved him from one, but not all three. He felt a piercing crunch as one ripped into his left shoulder and the other wrapped itself on his right arm. A heavy wave of nausea surged through his body as mucus made contact with his raw flesh.

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Drawing his head to the right, he shot it back and sent it careening into the creature's cranium currently gnawing on his shoulder. One sickening crack and rich pools of black and bits of bone smeared across Wesker's hairline. The other savage, he decided, would receive a merciless end. With his now free left arm he dropped it out from under Jill and reached for the humanoid's throat. Its gnarled teeth snapped and lashed out. Far too close to Valentine's head for his liking. He dropped her to the ground.

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With a guttural wail the monster's grip weakened as Wesker clamped down on two flaps of skin near the humanoid's neckline. He wrenched his gloved fingers in until he felt folds of muscle tissue and ripped through each one. Screeching, the creature sank its fangs into the Ex-Umbrella scientist's wrist. In moments another wave of nausea set in and, seething, Wesker brought his right hand over the beast-man's nape. Each finger bore a hole in and one by one clamped down on its spinal cord. Gripping the connective link carefully as his prey thrashed and kicked, Wesker slowly tensed his hand until, finally, it snapped.

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The creature dropped like a stone and Albert Wesker's cold gaze met with its dead eyes for only a moment. Not a second more, he turned his attention on the jacket he'd so carefully draped over his cargo. In the low light of the forest it lay at his feet in a bundle of black leather.

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But Valentine was nowhere to be found.

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Wesker snapped his head in the direction of the downed tree he'd sent the first man into and stalked across the mulch below. There was no corpse to meet him. And the third humanoid he'd avoided earlier was nowhere to be found. Those blood soaked gloves clenched until each knuckle cracked.

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No. Valentine was his. He'd be damned if some rejected experiment made her its meal.

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The storm was adamant on keeping any particular sound, but his own from reaching Wesker's ear. No matter how hard he honed in on his surroundings all he could hear was the wail of the wind and the thrashing branches above. Time was of the essence if he wanted to find Jill in one piece. At the very least, alive.

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But as minutes ticked by and nothing appeared in the foliage his hope of getting a live research subject was dwindling. The more he spent searching for her corpse the less chance he had of leaving the area without being spotted by incoming BSAA teams. It seemed almost poetic that, yet again, his desires were being postponed by one of his lovely S.T.A.R.S. Agents...

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Author's Recap:

So there you have it! The second chapter of Wesker's wild adventures tracking down a half-dead Jill are not over! And the real fun has just begun!~

Hope this left you all on the edge of your seats. I'll be posting up some more much sooner next time! So please, review and let me know what you liked and what you thought there could be less of so that I may better hone the tale I'm weaving~

Take care!

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